
I’ve been waiting a very long time to write these words. I’m pregnant!!! And we’re having a baby boy! His nickname is Polpettino (which means ‘little meatball’ in Italian) because my husband Billy is fourth-generation Irish, and this baby is going to come out the most Irish kid you've ever met, so he's getting to be Italian while he's still in utero. And we love him so much already. But before we get to the joy, I need to take you through the full story. Because this pregnancy didn't just happen. It was fought for. It was grieved for. It’s pregnancy after loss, after two years of grief, fear, therapy, IVF, and learning how to hold joy and sorrow in the same body. Welcome to my pregnancy journey!
Growing Joy: The Plant Lover's Guide to Cultivating Happiness (and Plants) by Maria Failla, Illustrated by Samantha Leung
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My first pregnancy ended in a missed miscarriage at ten weeks. It was the fall of 2023, and I remember being terrified because I’m an entrepreneur, I had interviews booked, and I didn’t know how everything would work.
And then two days before Christmas, I found I had what they call a “missed miscarriage,” where your body thinks you’re still pregnant but the baby stopped growing.
That winter was the darkest season of my life.
And in hindsight, it was kind of similar to nature, where when a tree falls in the forest, it doesn’t disappear. It becomes compost, feeds the soil, and nourishes what grows next.
It was the wake-up call for me, and it forced us to look differently at:
It made us ask: if we really want this, what needs to change?
Our second miscarriage happened at seven weeks, and that one felt cruel.
We had done the work. We had moved to Florida and were settled. That one broke me in a different way because it felt SO unfair. It made me question if becoming a mother was ever going to be part of my story.
And again, in hindsight, it reminds me that nature is not gentle. That not all seeds germinate. Remember my precious story about the ducks that hatch 22 babies, and then only 8 remained?
It made me realize how closely nature is linked to life and death. Of course, just because I understood it doesn’t mean it took away the pain, but it helped me to stop personalizing it. That sometimes it’s not punishment but just part of the ecosystem of being alive.
After our second loss, we decided to pursue IVF.
During our IVF testing, my doctor did something that changed everything. He ordered a painful uterine biopsy (it's not fun at all, and once again, men could never) and discovered I had endometritis, which is an infection of the uterus that has zero symptoms. So you cannot feel it and don't know it's there.
It was very simple to treat with two weeks of antibiotics. Since I found out and started sharing this, two women in my personal circle have discovered they had endometritis too. Two women who were struggling, who now have answers. So please share this with your circle!
Anyway, our IVF pregnancy story led to a successful first transfer. But even then, pregnancy after loss does not suddenly flip into bliss because every ultrasound felt like a test.
I did not allow myself to attach or hope fully. I just stayed numb because numb felt safer than shattered.
One of the nature metaphors that supported me through miscarriage healing and IVF was seasons because we think of them as neat and tidy: winter, spring, summer, fall.
But within winter, there are micro-seasons like the descent into darkness, the solstice, or the subtle thaw before spring.
And grief works the same way. There was the shock, rage, numbness, and then slow melting.
Zooming out has helped me. Two Christmases ago was the worst of my life. Last Christmas was still heavy. But this coming Christmas, God willing, I’ll have a baby in my arms.
There’s a teacher I love who says, “You can only experience this capacity for joy as you can experience your capacity for grief.”
I understand that now in my bones. When I was sick in my first trimester, I remember thinking, I prayed for this, begged for this. I asked for this nausea.
And growing joy means something different to me now.
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